The Vow
by KC Evans
Summary: OneShot. In order to repent for his sins, Aoshi vowed to himself that he would never again wield a sword [beginning of Meiji Tales arc]. But how realistic is that promise when his Leader's life is in danger?


_Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is owned by their respective owners which doesn't include me._

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Although her eyes remained closed, she could sense the presence of another, disturbing her from meditation. Recognizing the moving ki, she didn't reach for the weapon that was lying at her side, choosing instead to remain seated and wait. After a moment, Shiori opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, her gaze landing on the one who had entered. She lifted a brow as she beheld the familiar silhouette the faint moonlight traced as it spilled into the hut through the open window. "This is an odd time for a visit," she remarked blandly, her curiosity piqued as to why he had come here himself. Normally, she would be summoned to meet him at his place of choice.

"This is no visit." The voice was one she had known for years, though there was a hard undertone that wouldn't normally show except under extreme circumstances. Of course, his presence here meant the circumstance was far from ordinary.

Shiori nodded her head slowly, recognizing something unusual was going on to make her contact behave so oddly. "The usual?" she asked briskly, falling into her business-like demeanor. Whatever was going on, it wasn't any of her concern. All she had to do was carry out her orders. She had enough problems as it was without adding anyone else's to the list.

"Not quite. This target is different. You will have to be extremely careful."

A word of caution. Shiori wasn't certain if she should be insulted or pleased that he cared enough for him to voice the warning. At the very least, it was rather pointless. "I am always careful. It is necessary for one who is in my position," she said gently, to remind him of what she was. "Who is the target?"

There was a long pause but Shiori was not bothered by it. She merely waited for him to come to a final decision, though she knew what the outcome might be. He wouldn't have come here himself if he didn't want this done. And she was quite patient, a virtue she had honed over the years when there was nothing to do but wait.

When the answer finally came, the voice was renewed with determination. He looked straight into her dark eyes, his older body stiffening to show his resolve. "The target is Aoshi Shinomori."

* * *

"Lord Aoshi!" 

The shout vibrated with gladness as it reached the ears of the tall man who had been sitting outside to observe the sunset. As he glanced up, just enough so that his eyes peered out from under his long bangs, he saw a petite blur of blue and black flying in his direction. Despite himself, a very small smile curved the corners of his lips upwards as he observed her dash across the yard to reach him. Cerulean blue eyes flashed from beneath the heavy, midnight hair that was coiled into a single, long braid. That said braid was now trailing after its owner like the tail of a kite, dancing as she moved.

When she had reached him, she threw her arms around him so enthusiastically Aoshi nearly fell over. As it was, he had been somewhat prepared, seeing that she was barreling towards him with no signs of stopping. Reaching up to touch her arms around his neck, he steeled himself against the sudden push, regaining his balance almost immediately. "Misao. It isn't proper for the leader of the Oniwaban group to nearly smother someone to death just because she couldn't stop in time."

Misao Makimachi opened her mouth indignantly, intending to defend her agility. But she caught the shimmer of warmth in his normally cool eyes and she released her grip on him to rest her hands on her hips. "Lord Aoshi! That was a horrible joke!" She shook her head at his attempt at humor. _Well, this is what I asked for_, she thought ruefully. Of course, she wouldn't take it back for the whole world – no, make that the whole _universe_ – so she merely grinned and plopped down into his lap.

Misao had been doing that lately, finding every excuse to be close to him. Aoshi didn't mind, of course; after all, it was he who had finally given her what she wanted. Now it seemed that she was determined to keep their relationship moving forward, not wanting to look back to the past when he told her he never wanted to see her again.

Aoshi looked down at the woman so close to him, marveling at her quiet beauty. Her child-like looks were still there, belaying her age enough so that most men dismissed her from the very beginning. He was glad of that now, even if it took him a long time to see beyond the mask. Indeed, it had been a struggle to see her as more than a five year old girl, but now his eyes were wide open and he had no intention of ever shutting them again.

Misao, unaware of his scrutinizing gaze, sighed in happiness as she watched the fiery liquid ball roll over the western horizon, sinking to rest. The clouds reflected the angry glare of the sun's rays as it drifted lazily past them. The air was quiet and still; even the Aoiya was far enough so that the noise from the restaurant was muted. This was her favorite time of day, watching the sun set with Aoshi right with her. "It's so beautiful," she said softly, turning to look up at him.

Aoshi nodded once. "Aa."

Misao made a face at his one-syllable word before turning back to the darkening sky. "Lord Aoshi?" she asked rather absently, picking at a loose string on her ninja gi.

"Yes, Misao?"

"Will you go out to a picnic with me in two days? You know, to celebrate our one month anniversary?" She turned to flash him a smile, her eyes bright with eagerness and adoration, hiding the uncertainty behind her normal ebullience. After all, men didn't really care about those sorts of things. Maybe he didn't even remember that it had been one month since he began to treat her differently. But she was determined to celebrate every landmark occasion, even if she had to tie him up and drag him to wherever she felt like celebrating.

Despite her perkiness, Aoshi could sense her hesitancy at asking the question. So she was still unsure about their relationship, he mused. Putting a hand to her soft cheek, he leaned forward until their noses were touching. "Misao."

Misao tried to catch her breath at his sudden nearness. She could almost taste the words he spoke before they left his mouth. His sinfully delicious, perfect mouth. She tried to speak but had to swallow before any sound would emerge. "Yes?" she whispered, staring up at him with her luminous blue eyes.

If it was possible, Aoshi bent even closer to her until they were nearly pressed against each other. "You should know that our anniversary is in three days, not two."

Misao blinked. That wasn't exactly what she expected. She took a moment or two to gather her wits together, allowing his words to sink in. When they did, she instantly broke away from him and frowned. "I know that, but I've got three meetings scheduled on the exact date and I thought it would be better to celebrate sooner rather than later." Men! No wonder Kaoru was always beating her houseguests around with a bokken, they had no sense! She added rather primly, "As the leader of the Oniwaban group, I have to take my responsibilities seriously, which means making sacrifices once in a while."

Aoshi wanted to smile. She looked rather adorable giving him such a haughty look, as if she was appalled that he would want her to behave irresponsibility. "Aa. In that case, I will happy to accompany you to a picnic in two days."

Misao merely hmphed and turned her back to him, shoulders still set. But when he lifted his hands to massage her neck, the tension drained from her body and she slumped against him. "That feels good," she murmured.

Aoshi watched her with a mixture of sympathy and pride. He knew firsthand how hard it was to run such an extensive organization like the Oniwaban, and he had to admit doubts when he heard Misao declared herself the new leader. But after all this time, she was holding the reins rather well. Of course, Okina and the others lent her a hand whenever she needed one, but the credit remained largely with Misao.

A heavy weight dropped to his chest and Aoshi looked down in surprise, startled from his thoughts. Misao lay curled against him, sleeping. He merely shook his head and carefully gathered her up in his arms to take her to bed; it wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep on him, but he didn't blame her. She somehow managed to keep herself in a whirlwind of activity throughout the day, whether it was training on her kunais, meeting with Okina and other Oniwaban representatives, or dashing back and forth to bring him tea and lunch and run errands for Omasu. It was a wonder she kept going for as long as she did.

As Aoshi strode back to the Aoiya with the precious bundle in his arms, he sensed Okina drifting close by. He merely nodded to the older man as he passed by, more concerned with putting Misao to bed and allowing her to rest for another exhausting day. Climbing up the familiar steps leading into the private quarters, he took the familiar route to Misao's room and managed to open the shoji door while holding onto the unconscious woman. Finally succeeding, he set her down on the unrolled futon – he would thank Omasu or Okon later for their foresight – and covered her up with the blanket. Aoshi stayed by her side for a long while, watching her breathe deeply as she slumbered on. Her expression was so soft and innocent, whatever remained of his heart ached with longing. How had he deserved such a pure soul to love him? And she did love him with everything she had. He could see it every time her blue eyes turned in his direction. He sensed it every time she popped in to check on his welfare. He knew it when she gave him the last rice ball and ignored Shiro and Kuro's complaints about favoritism.

Aoshi finally rose to his feet and silently left Misao's room, closing the door behind him gently. He was surprised to see Okina still lingering near by, as if checking to make sure he left his adopted granddaughter's room. He would smile at such an absurd concern if he normally smiled; Okina of all people should know that he wouldn't do anything to dishonor Misao.

Taking in a long, quiet breath to steady himself, Aoshi turned and looked at his former mentor. "Is there something you wanted, Okina?"

The older man hesitated for a moment, causing Aoshi to raise his brows in mild concern. This was not usual behavior for Okina, who had reason to be confident in his wisdom and position as advisor to the leader of the Oniwaban group. "Aoshi. You know I trust you completely, no matter what happened in the past. But."

Okina seemed to be waiting for some sort of response, and Aoshi indulged him this one time, although his tone was suddenly hard. "But what?" He couldn't believe Okina was going to warn him about Misao.

"But be very careful. She is our leader and to be protected. I will have no qualms about fighting you again should you hurt my Misao."

Aoshi struggled to find the inner peace that he had strove to obtain during his long stays at the temple. Furious rage was boiling within him at Okina's words, though they were quite similar to his sentiments. Still, it was dishonorable for his actions to be so questioned, as if he could callously toss aside Misao's love for him. Keeping his tone level, he said in a low voice, "You have nothing to fear from me." He turned abruptly and stalked away before more words came spilling out that would harm their relationship. He would now have to mediate for at least an hour before he could harness his emotions back under control.

Okina watched Aoshi's departure with a sigh. His words had come out all wrong, of course, though a little warning never hurt anyone. He was just worried about Misao and how quickly she and Aoshi had become so attached to one another. He feared for her heart, knowing that it could be so easily shattered by the man who was still very much an ice block. The two people he loved most in the world could get easily hurt from words as much as a sharp blade.

* * *

Pressed into service by Okon, Aoshi found himself trailing after her through the bustle of the market place the next afternoon when he returned from his morning meditation at the temple. While the woman scanned the rows of vegetables with a discerning eye, he stood a few feet back, relegated to nothing more than the package holder. The Aoiya's business was picking up due to the excellent weather, which meant bulk shopping, which, of course, meant a man was needed to carry them. He didn't mind, really, seeing as he didn't do much for them in the first place. Besides, it gave him a chance to think. 

While Okon bargained down the price of radishes with some plump merchant, Aoshi forced himself to consider Okina's point of view. He had been Misao's guardian for ten years, raising her and teaching her the ways of the Oniwaban. Of course he would feel protective towards her – they all did. Not so much because she was the granddaughter of their former leader, or even just because she was now their current leader. No, most people who came in contact with Misao couldn't help but love her; she was that special.

Okon dropped a large bag of radishes in Aoshi's arms, startling him from his thoughts, and marched on. She didn't even bother looking back to see if he followed, intent on the next item on her list. Aoshi sighed inwardly and dutifully trailed after the woman, juggling the growing pile of items in his grip while shifting past the other million people who decided to shop today of all days. It seemed as though Okon was determined to buy half the market before she was through and was racing against everyone else doing the same.

A prickling feeling of unease suddenly coursed through him and Aoshi stiffened. He flared out his senses, trying to determine what was causing it. There was a set of eyes watching him, though he couldn't pinpoint the direction where it was coming from. His eyes narrowed, he glanced around the area, scanning for anything amiss. Whoever it was didn't seem to have malicious intentions, but it was better safer than sorrier.

"Aoshi? Are you all right?" Okon's voice snapped his attention back to the woman standing before him, peering at him curiously. Apparently she had come back to drop off a large package of fish and saw him looking around.

"I'm fine." He checked Okon for any sign that she felt something but she only continued to give him a puzzled look. Whoever the watcher was, he was good if a trained ninja like Okon didn't react.

As it was, Okon merely gave him a dubious look before shrugging – no doubt chalking it up to another Aoshi moment. "Well, I'm done shopping. We can go back now." She tossed the fish on top of the pile, which landed right below his chin. Ignoring the sudden flare of his nostrils at the strong scent of seafood, she led the way back home.

Aoshi humorlessly wondered if his watcher was enjoying this as much as he was.

* * *

The shadow departed once they left the market place but Aoshi's unease remained the same as they arrived back home. He had made enemies in the past ten years of his travel, though most were probably already dead. Still, he could never be too cautious about bringing danger home with him. 

Thankfully, he was only required to bring the groceries to the kitchen before he could make his escape. Aoshi considered stopping by the office to see Misao but decided it would merely disturb her from her duties. Instead, he slipped into the backyard and leaned against the wall, staring at scenery before him without really looking as he pondered what to do next.

Aoshi thought about the kodachis which hung in his room. They were now more of an ornament than weapons since he had vowed never to pick up a sword again. Like Himura, it was his way of repenting for his past sins, which had kept him from Misao for so long. But he was older now, a little wiser, and he knew that above all, Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijo, and Hyotoko wanted his happiness.

Yet the fact that someone was watching him – someone good enough to escape detection from one of the Oniwaban members – was a little more than concerning. Aoshi wasn't certain what he would do if a fight was inevitable. _Himura was able to keep his vow never to kill again, even against another manslayer. Can I keep mine?_

Restless energy coursing through him, he stepped back inside to prowl the Aoiya, checking to make sure everyone was safe and nothing was wrong. Everyone gave him a funny look, but Aoshi didn't stop to explain his sudden presence in places he usually didn't venture to. He even went so far as to poke his head into the restaurant briefly just to make sure his watcher didn't decide come in for a late lunch. Satisfied that the danger was not there, he headed back into the private living room.

He was not surprised to see Okina there waiting for him, giving him a curious look. "Aoshi. Are you all right? You seem rather edgy today."

Aoshi studied the old man for a long moment, debating whether or not to tell him what happened. Deciding he was obligated to warn them just in case something more happened, he said, "I was being watched at the market place."

Okina cackled and gave him a lascivious wink. "Eh, those ladies! They can't keep their eyes off of you!"

Aoshi shook his head. "No, it was someone else entirely. Someone skilled." Skilled enough to keep from being detected. It was only his experience from traveling that alerted him to the watcher, which made him all the more deadly. "It would be a good idea to warn everyone to be on their guard until whoever he is reveals himself."

Okina stopped chuckling and peered at him more closely. Raising his eyebrows at the unusually grave expression, he nodded. "Of course. I'll warn Misao and the others immediately."

Aoshi lifted up a hand to stop him. "I would prefer Misao not know. It would cause her needless worry and she is already under enough pressure. There will be enough time to tell her once I find out more information."

Okina sighed, knowing exactly how this was going to end. It was the curse of men to think that women followed a male's logic. "Aoshi, let me give you a bit of advice about women. They worry about us no matter what occurs and do not appreciate being kept in the dark. Women prefer to worry about something more tangible than something more general. If you don't tell Misao now, she's going to be even more upset than she would be in the first pace."

"If she worried about me now, she would shirk her other duties. It is best to let things alone until we see how this watcher acts." Aoshi was certain if Misao knew about this, she would send every available ninja to scour the city until the shadow was found. She might even join in the search herself. When it came to the safety of the people she loved, and especially _his_ safety, Aoshi knew Misao would do anything to protect them.

Okina shook his head in disagreement but finally acquiesced. "Very well, then. But I will enjoy telling you later just how wrong you were." He turned to head to the kitchen, presumably to inform the others of the new threat, when Aoshi's voice stopped him.

"Okina. Last night, I spoke rather harshly and I … apologize. It was foolish of me to belittle your love for her and your desire to keep her from harm. I know I have done many sins in the past, but I have no intention of hurting Misao." The words were hard to speak but Aoshi knew that above all people, Okina deserved an explanation.

Okina nodded, his shoulders hunched over as if he was suddenly feeling his age. "Thank you, Aoshi. I know you are a good man and you make Misao happy. All I want is to secure that happiness and her safety into a man I can trust. That way, when I'm gone, I'll have no regrets."

No regrets. It was so odd to hear Okina speak like that, as if he, too, carried a lifetime of sins on him. Aoshi considered his words even as the old man shuffled away, wondering what regrets he could have.

"Lord Aoshi?"

Interrupted from his thought, he turned to Misao who was staring at him curiously in the doorway. "Yes, Misao?"

She ventured further inside, her blue eyes searching his face. "Is everything all right? You look rather … pensive."

He waited until she was close enough to wrap his arms around her, instantly finding comfort in her warmth. "Aa. I was merely speaking with Okina."

Misao looked up as she made a face. "Oh. Did he talk to you about the responsibilities of relationships, too?" Making a fair imitation of Okina stroking his goatee, she said in a weird voice, "Misao, as the leader of the Oniwaban group, the man you choose to someday marry must be strong enough to stand at your side and protect you at all costs. The child that you create with him is the future leader. These are heavy responsibilities and you must be prepared!" She laughed at the memory and spoke in her normal voice. "He always gets serious at the strangest times, like he's expecting something bad to happen."

Aoshi thought of his watcher and wondered if Okina had some sort of premonition about it. "Okina is a wise man for all his frivolous ways. We would all do well to benefit from his experience," he said.

Misao rolled her eyes. "Not you, too! Come on, Lord Aoshi! When we go on our picnic tomorrow, I don't want to hear any serious thoughts from you, all right? I want you to have fun tomorrow, and relax."

His gaze softened as he gazed down at the woman by his side. "I'll do my best for you, Misao."

She beamed up at him, her large eyes reflecting years of love, warmth, and joy. Her words shook him to the core as she said softly, her voice certain, "I know you will."

* * *

Strangely, the comments of marriage Okina made to Misao didn't bother him. Aoshi wasn't certain if he really was husband material, but as long as Misao loved him, he was going to make certain no one else would get near her. And it seemed as though she didn't expect marriage – at least, not yet. But Misao was fast approaching the age when she would be considered too old to get married. That didn't bother him in the least – most men wouldn't glance in her direction twice once she was declared a spinster despite her beauty – but he knew she deserved to settle down respectfully, raise a family, and grow old together with her husband. 

But for now, Aoshi was content on celebrating their first month anniversary together. He awoke to the early dawn that was streaked with gray, the first sign that the weather would not be as pleasant as it was the past few days. He sat up and watched the sunrise valiantly try to break through the gloomy clouds without much success. Misao was going to be upset.

Sure enough, Aoshi could hear movement outside his door as Misao went stomping past his room, muttering to herself. "Stupid weather! Of all the times it could be cloudy, it _had_ to be today! I'll be surprised if we don't drown while we eat …" Her voice faded as she headed downstairs.

Aoshi got out of bed and neatly folded his futon up before changing into his usual garb and did his morning ablutions. Stepping out of the room, he headed downstairs and paused near the kitchen as he heard some rattling. He was mildly surprised to hear Misao awake so early but surmised she did so from excitement and to pack their picnic basket. A small smile curved the corners of his lips upwards as he peered around the corner and watched her bustle around, throwing various items into two bento boxes.

Misao was so intent on her work that she didn't even see him until she turned around towards the door. His suddenly appearance startled her and she shrieked, dropping the plate of vegetables in her hand. Luckily, Aoshi sprang forward and managed to catch the dish before it hit the ground. Most of the food was saved as well, though some splattered to the ground.

She grinned at him rather sheepishly. "Er, good morning, Lord Aoshi."

"Good morning, Misao." He watched as she took the plate from his hand and set about to clean up the mess. "I did not mean to frighten you."

Misao smiled up at him. "I know. I should have been paying more attention but …" She shrugged and sighed. "I have a feeling it might rain before we can go on our picnic."

"If that is the case, we will have it outside on the back porch and watch the rain fall," he said. "There is no reason why we cannot celebrate anywhere else."

She thought about that for a moment before a smile lit her face. "You're right," she said happily. "After all, the important thing is that we're together, right Lord Aoshi?"

"Aa. You are right, Misao."

With her humor restored, she went back to packing their lunch. Humming some tune Aoshi couldn't recognize, she puttered back and forth with an extra bounce in her step.

The picture was just so Misao that Aoshi almost felt a gut-wrenching emotion deep within his heart. He watched her graceful movements, both from her ninja training and the inborn knowledge of a woman entirely comfortable with herself. It was one of the things that made him love and envy Misao at the same time; she knew exactly who she was and what she wanted to accomplish in her life. Whereas he couldn't fathom knowing himself and accepting it entirely, she did so, not only of herself, but of others as well.

That was what allowed Misao to love him so much, even though he had hurt her many times before. She knew him – perhaps even better than he did himself – and still accepted him anyway. That sort of trust and love, Aoshi had realized a month ago, was too rare and precious to not accept. It had taken Himura to point the truth to him. Misao was giving him exactly what he needed.

At that moment, Aoshi knew that if he was called to protect those he loved, he would do it. Vow or no vow, he would once again take up the sword and fight to the death. Pain swelled in his heart upon the heels of that thought, but he pushed it aside with the same intense ruthlessness he had displayed for ten years. It would kill him to fight and bring back the emotionless, cold man from before, but he would give it up. And all for the slip of woman bustling around the kitchen as if she belonged there.

"Lord Aoshi, do you plan to go meditate at the temple today?" Misao asked, unaware of his inner conflict. "If so, I'll be by later to bring you your tea." She shook a finger at him, her eyes spilling with laughter. "Just don't forget, we have an appointment at noon, all right? No excuses."

Aoshi focused his eyes upon her, his gaze caressing her. "I won't forget, Misao."

"Good! The only thing worse than the rain would be if you left me alone to look like an idiot in front of the others!" Flashing him a bright smile that showed she had complete faith in him, she turned back to the picnic basket which was starting to bulge sideways. "Now, I know I forgot something …" she muttered to herself, examining the basket critically.

Sensing the others starting to awaken, Aoshi headed back to his room and slipped inside before anyone came out. He took two steps to the middle of the room and stared silently at the extra long sheath that hung horizontally on two pegs on the wall. He wasn't certain how long he stood there but a knock ultimately broke his concentration.

"Aoshi?"

It was Okina, who waited for a moment before sliding the door open. Poking his head inside, he looked at the younger man curiously. "Breakfast is ready. What are you doing?"

Aoshi had turned to face Okina when he opened the door. "Nothing. I believe I will go directly to the temple and meditate. It seems as though Misao intends to bring the entire Aoiya kitchen along to the picnic and it wouldn't do for me not to have an appetite."

Okina grimaced. "At the rate Misao was going filling that basket, Okon might have to go shopping again tomorrow. I will see you later, then."

"Aa."

Okina slid the door shut and turned around, a frown marring his expression. Why would Aoshi be standing in his room? There was nothing to look at, no drawings or any writings of any kind. The only thing that showed the room was even being used was …

Okina's breath caught. The kodachis, which Aoshi had hung on his wall with finality when he returned with Himura. Was he planning to use them again in some way? He almost turned around to ask but dismissed the thought immediately. Whatever was going on, Aoshi would confide in him when the time was right. He did trust the young man's judgment and character and was determined to give him the space he required.

Aoshi waited until he felt Okina's ki leaving. He had paused for a long time outside the door and Aoshi wondered if the old man perhaps knew what was going on. Why else would he linger about?

Shrugging the question aside, Aoshi turned back to his sheathed weapons. He took in a quiet breath, exhaled, and stepped forward to lift the kodachis from its peg. Grabbing his long yellow coat that could easily conceal the weapons, he headed out towards the temple. He would have to meditate on his decision for a long time, to make sure it was the right one.

* * *

The clouds were still a mottled gray when Aoshi stepped out of the temple several hours later. He glanced at the sky, judging the time when it was going to rain. Deciding they had a few hours before anything would begin, he began to head back home. 

Aoshi returned to the Aoiya a few minutes before noon, waiting for Misao to come out; since it hadn't rained yet, they agreed to go the grassy knoll near by. He had managed to secrete the kodachis from her curious eyes when she stopped by earlier to serve him tea, and they remained hidden on his person. There was no sign of the watcher, but if he were to strike, the picnic would be an excellent time to do so.

Of course, Aoshi could tell Misao they shouldn't leave the safety of the Aoiya. But that would make her unhappy and have her persisting in questions that he didn't want to answer, at least not yet. He knew it was risky to go out on their own, but he had confidence in his abilities, and Misao's as well. Between the two of them, they would be able to manage – unless they were completely outnumbered.

But before he could ponder _those_ consequences, Misao lurched out with a folded blanket over one arm, dragging the picnic basket behind her. Omasu appeared at the door, frowning her apprehension. "Misao, you packed too many things in there! Not even Aoshi will be able to carry that comfortably!"

"I –" puff puff, "can manage –" puff, "this!"

Aoshi blinked once to show his surprise before reaching over and plucking the basket from Misao's grasp. He hefted it briefly. Omasu was right, it was far too overloaded with whatever Misao threw in. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a live pig there to be slaughtered for fresh pork.

He eyed Misao, contemplating telling her that perhaps they should drop a few things, but she was beaming at him and skipped forward, now lightened from her burden. "Come on, Lord Aoshi! Let's go before it starts to rain."

Too bad his arms felt like they were going to fall off. Carefully hiding the pain from his expression, he glanced at Omasu who was trying not to burst into hysterical laughter. Narrowing his eyes at her, he turned and staggered after Misao.

Luckily, the picnic spot wasn't too far away; he had at least agreed to leave the Aoiya on the condition it was close to home in case it rained. Or in case Misao's safety was endangered which he would then shove her inside and face whatever threatened her.

Misao arrived first and eyed the area critically before deciding to spread the blanket at the perfect spot. Aoshi arrived a minute later and nearly dropped the basket as soon as he reached it. Hidden kodachis and heavy picnic baskets did not go well together.

"Oooh, there was miso soup there, I hope it didn't spill," Misao said, eying the wicker container. She reached over and began to unload item after item from it. She didn't notice him collapse on the blanket next to her, panting silently.

For his part, Aoshi eyed the food she was pulling out with some misgivings. There was no way the two of them could eat all this, which meant he would have to carry the stupid thing back to the Aoiya again. His arm muscles screamed in protest at that thought.

_Well, I could always throw the basket at the watcher if we're attacked_, he thought sardonically. _That should be enough to knock him out so we can escape_.

Misao was wrong, Aoshi decided. He had a perfectly fine sense of humor.

"Well, Lord Aoshi!" came Misao's bright voice. "What would you like to eat first?"

Aoshi sat up and surveyed the mound of food with dismay. Misao had included every side dish made in the Aoiya in copious quantities and even a few he didn't recognize. She opened the bento boxes that contained steaming hot rice and held her chopsticks in readiness to serve him. It was rather touching, actually, though a bit overwhelming. "Ahh, uh …" he stuttered. He _never_ stuttered. His gaze landed on a little pot and he seized the chance to answer. "Tea. Please."

Misao blinked at his unusual reaction but set her chopsticks down to pour him a cup of tea. After all, Lord Aoshi was very partial to green tea; if the world ever ran out of it … well, she didn't want to know what would happen.

Setting down the pot, Misao reached for her utensils again. "All right, what would you like to try – ow!"

Aoshi paused in mid-sip at the sudden exclamation and looked over at Misao. She had just yanked out a dark from her arm and was examining it curiously. "What in the world is this?" Her voice gradually softened and the cerulean blue eyes rolled up as she collapsed.

Aoshi threw the cup away and lunged forward to catch her before she fell into a heap on the blanket, not caring if the food was squashed. He laid Misao down on the blanket gently and checked her breathing to make sure she was still alive, trying to calm the frantic beat of his heart from the sudden attack.

He was such an idiot! He should have listened to his instincts and kept Misao inside instead of indulging her like a lovesick fool. He knew, he _knew_ something would have happened today.

Aoshi checked on her breathing again. It was steady and slow, as if she was slumbering. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, he turned his attention to the feathered dart. It had fallen from her fingers as she collapsed and he picked it up, examining it much like Misao had done not a minute ago.

"She's merely asleep. No lasting harm was done to her."

Aoshi stiffened at the feminine voice coming from behind him. He hadn't heard her, nor sensed her presence at all. But it was his watcher, he was certain. Someone trained enough to block any sign of her ki.

He slowly stood up and turned around to face her. She was watching him with dark eyes, the only thing visible from her face mask. She was dressed in a form fitting, black ninja outfit, covering her body from head to toe. Aoshi scanned her person briefly, noting the naked katana in her gloved right hand as her only weapon. A dull glint caught his eye; a long piece of cloth was wound around her neck, the ends trailing at her back. Pinned on the cloth at the hollow of her throat was a silver brooch in the form of crescent moon.

He finally lifted his eyes back to hers, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. "Who are you and what do you want?"

She didn't move from her relaxed position, which didn't fool him in the slightest. Whoever she was, she was ready for an attack at any time. "Questions like those should be saved for afterwards," she said gravely.

Her dialect was slightly off, as if she wasn't a native to Kyoto. Still, she spoke well enough to pass, which meant she had spent quite some time in the area. Aoshi narrowed his eyes as he tried to read the situation, slowly reaching for the hidden sheath beneath his coat. "I will not fight without a reason."

She chuckled gently, which surprised him. "They said you were an interesting man, Aoshi Shinomori." In an equally bewildering move, she sketched him a swift bow though her eyes never left his. "I am called Shiori. As for what I want …" She shrugged. "Isn't that obvious? Your life, the leader of the Oniwaban group – the usual things."

"But you are no ordinary fighter."

She inclined her head gracefully. "A compliment. I understand those are rarely given, if at all. I am very expensive, if that is what you are trying to establish. But enough of this! What is your next move, Mr. Shinomori? Will you attack with your kodachis or not?"

Aoshi wasn't too surprised to hear her words; Shiori seemed well versed in who he was, which was going to make this fight all the more difficult. No doubt if she knew of his vow never to draw a sword again, she knew his fighting style. But did she know that he was skilled in kempo? After his first fight with Himura, he had concentrated solely on mastering the Kodachi no Nitou technique, which meant his fame was based on weapons.

Aoshi decided to test the idea. He withdrew the sheathed kodachis from behind him and held it up in one hand. "If you wish to fight, you may begin any time."

Shiori smiled to herself. "Very well, then." She immediately launched forward, running towards him with her sword raised.

Waiting until she moved, Aoshi slammed the sheath into the ground so that it would stay upright with the longer kodachi facing upwards – just in case. He could see the surprise in her eyes at his unexpected move as she swung her blade around in a perfect arc that was aimed at his neck. A grim smile touched his lips very briefly as he ducked under the attack and lifted his hand to thrust at her right shoulder.

But his fist was blocked. In disbelief, Aoshi realized that Shiori had someone divined his attack and used her left hand to knock his away. They stood frozen there for a long moment before he sprang away.

Shiori lowered her sword, watching his movements. "It is good that you have not broken your vow never to draw a sword again," she said with approval. "A man is as only as honorable as the word he keeps, especially to himself. Of course, without your weapons, you will die all that much faster and the leader of the Oniwaban group will be in my grasp."

Aoshi stared at her hard. It seemed as though she was taunting him to deliberately draw his kodachis. But why would she do that? Her reasons for attacking him seemed quite vague, as if she wanted him to draw his own conclusions. And she had never said Misao's name once, instead referring her to her honorable title. All of this was too odd to make sense.

"You are merely standing there like a statue, Mr. Shinomori. Are you going to attack or should I end your life here and now?" Shiori's voice was edged with impatience though her gaze on him never wavered.

He only hesitated for a brief moment as he shifted into a defensive kempo position and locked eyes with Shiori. Perhaps she wanted to see if she could make him break his vow. If that was the case, he would prefer to fight without his kodachis; she was not worth the guilt in his heart for not keeping his own promise. "If you wish to attack, I am ready," he said.

"Excellent. I was beginning to feel disappointed that someone might have exaggerated your skills." Without further words, she sprang forward into another attack, this time with a side slash to his left.

Aoshi twisted slightly to slap the flat of the blade aside with his hand. As he did so, his right foot lashed out and kicked her on the left thigh. Shiori stumbled back a few steps and regained her balanced, admiration reflecting in her dark eyes. She attacked again with a frontal slash. Aoshi darted to left and kicked out his foot in a sweeping motion. She fell onto the ground but her katana snaked upwards to give him a shallow gash on his right hip. Immediately rolling to her left, she managed to avoid several more thuds as Aoshi tried to crush her windpipe.

Shiori hopped back up to her feet a few feet away, her sword in front in a defensive position. Aoshi noted her stance with grim pleasure. Now their positions were reversed; without another pause, he launched his own attack.

They battled back and forth, both searching for openings and taking advantage of them. Aoshi's suspicions grew, noticing that while Shiori managed to break through his defense with her sword, the cuts he received were shallower than they should be. For his part, he was able to step under her guard numerous times and struck her in various places, concentrating mostly on her sword arm. Her skill with the katana was quite good – not as good as Himura, but enough to get her by – but Aoshi doubted that she was trained in other weapons. Her movements were too smooth for her to practice anything else but swordsmanship. If she dropped her weapon from the injuries he was inflicting on her right arm, he would have the advantage.

Spotting an opening, Aoshi darted in and slammed his fist into the sensitive inner part of her elbow. Shiori faltered for a moment, her right arm drooping from the pain. But before she dropped her sword, she managed to toss it to the other hand and slashed at his stomach. He was standing too close to her to dodge and Aoshi winced as the blade bit into his skin. He leaned into a side kick that struck her left hand, drawing the weapon from him in a spray of crimson drops that splattered on the ground. He took the time to move back a few steps, eying her warily.

"You know how to wield a sword with both hands?" Aoshi asked. Her left handed slash was as good as her right handed one.

"You keep underestimating me, Mr. Shinomori," Shiori said reprovingly. "As you said earlier, I am no ordinary fighter. You succeeded in rendering my right arm useless, but you yourself are not without injuries. How quickly do you think you can move with all those cuts?"

Aoshi didn't need to glance down to know exactly where each wound was. They were shallow enough that he could ignore them while fighting. But now, while he was standing still, he could feel blood trickling from the larger ones. Odd, they didn't seem quite so bad before. He frowned and shifted his body slightly; he was getting a little stiff and pain was now gathering at each site.

"Do you see now?" she asked in satisfaction. "Every wound I made, like you did to me, was deliberately inflicted. They weren't very deep, but it was enough to gradually slow you down. By now, I'm certain you're feeling some pain; it will only get worse as the fight continues."

Aoshi sent her a flat look. "You are toying with me."

Shiori smiled though he couldn't see it through her face mask. "Perhaps. The battle will start to begin in earnest now, Mr. Shinomori. You once again have a decision to make: are you going to draw your kodachis or fight without them?"

Aoshi glanced behind him to Misao who was still sleeping peacefully. He didn't know how long they had been fighting before, but it certainly wasn't late enough that anyone would be duly alarmed if they didn't appear right away. He considered grabbing Misao and making a dash for the Aoiya. But she would be safe here, as long as he didn't lose.

He couldn't lose. Not to Shiori or to the demons from the past. He had Misao now and was actually happy. No other outcome would be acceptable. He would win.

Aoshi straightened to his full height and looked at Shiori through his long bangs. "We fight as we are."

She nodded and carefully drew her right arm back until it was resting against her back. Her left hand holding the katana regripped the hilt tightly and she slowly shifted into an attack stance. "Be prepared, Mr. Shinomori. You have made your decision. It is now time to live with it!"

Shiori sped forward into a frontal attack, the ends of her neck cloth streaming behind her like a sail. Aoshi stood firm, watching her feet and her sword and her torso all at the same time, waiting to react. When she shifted her direction to his right side, he snapped his foot up in a high kick, meeting the descending blade halfway down. Shoving it aside roughly with his boot, he leaned back to an upright position and followed with a punch to her left shoulder. Without pausing, he stepped forward and ducked under her raised sword arm, appearing just behind her, back to back. Spinning around, he grabbed her right arm and yanked it high viciously, hearing the bone fracture at his move.

Shiori gasped as her already injured arm splintered, the pain running up and down the right side. Gritting her teeth and forcing herself to ignore the pain, she flipped her sword until she was holding the weapon with the blade down, intending on plunging it into his left side behind her.

But a strong grip snagged her wrist, holding it immobile. "I suggest that you yield before I make your right arm useless forever," Aoshi said. His voice was soft but he was so close to her that she could hear him perfectly. As if to emphasize his point, he lifted her arm again slightly, increasing the pressure.

Shiori still made no sound but her body tensed as another fresh wave of pain resonated through her. She darted a look at her left hand; in response, he gripped her wrist even more tightly, bruising her with his superior strength.

"Yield."

His voice held no inflection. It was as simple as that to him. If she didn't surrender, he would continue inflicting pain on her until she did. Aoshi Shinomori was aptly named the icicle, especially to his enemies. Shiori exhaled slowly, trying to work through the spasms of heated agony licking along her nerves before giving a jerky nod of agreement.

"Drop your sword." When she did, he kicked it away from them and released her left wrist. Before she could move, he ripped off her face mask, let go of her right arm, and shoved her forward with a raised knee to the small of her back. She stumbled forward a step but caught her balance quickly, glancing over her right shoulder with wide eyes. Dark hair tumbled down halfway to her back, framing her pale complexion and high cheekbones. She looked to be about his age if not a little younger. He could see a faint scar above her right eye. Her nose was slightly disjointed as if it had been broken once and healed incorrectly. Her lips were thin and slightly pursed in contemplation for his action.

Aoshi narrowed his gaze. She seemed vaguely familiar though he couldn't remember where he had seen her before. Perhaps somewhere on his travels? No, he had never met her face to face before. Still, he couldn't help but feel she was not quite a stranger. "Now that the battle is over, you will answer my questions."

Shiori looked over at Misao and he tensed. Feeling the sudden spike in his ki, she smiled thinly and turned back to Aoshi. "Do not worry, Mr. Shinomori, I was merely making sure she was safe and still asleep. It would not do for both of us to fail the leader of the Oniwaban group." The sleep powder in the dart would be wearing off any moment now and would give her a chance to escape. She discovered all she needed to know.

"Explain yourself."

But she merely shook her head. "I was given this assignment only, not the reasons behind them. You will have to look elsewhere for those."

Aoshi's gaze grew colder. "You know more than you choose to share. You will answer me now or we will resume our fight. I assure you, as injured as you are and weaponless, you cannot win."

Shiori's lips quirked into a smile that perplexed him. "I don't need to win, Mr. Shinomori. All I need to do is survive."

A low groan had both them looking in the direction of the forgotten picnic. Misao stirred slightly and groaned again. "Ugh … Lord Aoshi?"

Shiori broke into a sprint towards Misao and Aoshi's heart leapt up to his throat, choking him as he ran after her. But because she was closer to the onmitsu, the female warrior reached her first. But instead of grabbing onto the younger woman, she jumped over her and veered into the nearest grove of trees.

Aoshi reached Misao and wavered for a moment, torn between going after Shiori and staying with the groggy ninja. His decision was made when her voice reached him, tremulous and quite unlike her usual tone.

"Lord Aoshi? What's going on?"

He exhaled slowly, still watching the direction where the other woman had disappeared. Finally, he sank down next to Misao and pulled her close to him, grateful she was unharmed. "I'll explain it all to you later, Misao."

Misao frowned at his odd behavior. She tried to lean back to see his face but he wouldn't let her move. Annoyed, she tried to speak though her voice was muffled by his clothes. "I remember getting hit by a dart – which hurt like crazy, by the way. Those things are really painful and people don't realize that. Just because they're small doesn't make them any less deadly. Or hurtful. And … what's this?" She felt some stickiness between the two of them and she wiped it off, struggling to look at her hand. She gasped when she saw dark crimson on her fingertips. "Lord Aoshi! You're bleeding!"

This time, Misao did manage to pull away and Aoshi relinquished his grip on her with a sigh. It was going to take a while for him to explain all this. From the burning light in her eyes, he could tell she was very unhappy. Very, very unhappy.

Okina was never going to let him forget this. Aoshi had promised he would make Misao's happiness complete, and here she was all worried about him. And just now, he had almost left her defenseless in favor of chasing after his opponent. So much for protecting her.

Misao was standing and tugging his arm to get him to his feet. "Come on, you have to get those wounds looked at. Just how many are there?" She scanned his ripped clothes anxiously, pressing against those which was she thought was bleeding the heaviest.

"Misao, I am fine," Aoshi protested, unable to do anything but get off the ground. Ignoring the basket and food still strewn about the blanket, the short woman marched him back to the direction of the Aoiya. "It's your safety that's in danger. I need to protect you but I need my kodachis." In his current condition, he wasn't quite sure how he would do in a fight, but he would be damned before he let Misao get hurt.

Misao yanked the sheathed weapons from the ground and shoved it at him, not slowing her pace. "Here. Although I thought you vowed never to draw your sword again." She slanted him a sideways glance and her eyes suddenly narrowed. He must have brought the kodachis along just in case they were attacked. But how could he have known there was danger if something else hadn't already happened? "I see. So you've been keeping some things from me, haven't you, Lord Aoshi?"

Aoshi actually sighed. From the tone of her voice, Misao's worry had changed to pure anger. Okina wasn't going to let him forget this either.

He suddenly stopped short, yanking his irate leader to a halt as well. Okina had emphasized her protection. So had Shiori. The older man even spoke to Misao about finding someone capable enough to protect her. What if … this was some sort of test?

But no. Okina wouldn't do that. Above all people, he knew Aoshi's skills, had even tasted it first hand. The only man stronger than he was Himura.

But that had been with his kodachis. This was before his vow never to pick up a sword again.

Aoshi's expression turned frigid, his eyes pure shards of ice. Ignoring Misao's worried look, he started off for the Aoiya in a faster pace, towing the girl behind her. He was angry, angrier than he had been in a long time. All those months of meditating at the temple was washed away by the single betrayal Okina had orchestrated. This was even different from his chaotic phase. This was pain.

He threw the door of the Aoiya's private entrance open and stalked inside, depositing Misao into Okon's care. "I'll be right back," he said tersely and headed to Okina's room where he sensed the older man was at.

Okina must have felt the violent vibrations because he called Aoshi to enter before the younger man even had a chance to touch the shoji door. When that door was also yanked open, he was sitting in the middle of the room with his back to the portal, staring outside at the gray clouds. "It hasn't rained yet. I'm glad you two didn't get wet."

Aoshi remained silent as he stared at Okina, trying to get his emotions under at least a semblance of control. It would not do for him to hurt his former mentor bodily, no matter how much he wanted to or how much respect he lost for him.

Okina sighed at his silence and finally turned around, motioning him inside. "Close the door and sit down, Aoshi. This conversation wasn't meant for other, prying ears." He studied the man in front of him for a moment as he did what he was told. "She hurt you far more than I thought."

Aoshi stiffly sat down on the extra tatami mat. Okina's lack of denial caused another surge of anger but he managed to tamp it down with sheer willpower. "Who is she?"

Okina settled in his position more comfortably. "Shiori is one of us, though she has different duties than the other Oniwaban members. She started training not too long after you began yours, though you probably never met her face to face. I helped with some of her basic onmitsu skills, but it was our former leader who supervised her." He glanced out the window again, noting the heaviness of the gathering clouds. It would start to rain soon. "Shiori's duties were unique in that she would be called upon for two reasons only. One was to hunt down and execute any Oniwaban deserters, especially during the Revolution." Okina paused and swung his gaze back to Aoshi. "The other was to evaluate the capabilities of the chosen consort of the current leader."

Aoshi remained silent. He had suspected something along those lines.

Okina frowned at his stubbornness. "We would have had to do the same thing should while you were the leader," he said, irritated.

Aoshi narrowed his eyes. "That never happened while I was Leader." He would have remembered such a ridiculous situation and abolished the practice altogether.

"You weren't thinking about marriage then! For all that's holy, Aoshi, don't you see it wasn't because I didn't trust you? But even in these peaceful times, there are still enemies lurking about who could destroy what we – the Oniwaban ninjas – have worked so hard to create and maintain! Misao, by blood and by virtue, is our leader. We would give our lives for her, but we cannot forget how important she truly is. Especially the man who is tied to her for life. As I told Misao, there are only few who are qualified to marry her. Shiori was to evaluate your potential for that position."

Aoshi kept his gaze on Okina, his voice still flat. "And what did you hope to accomplish with Shiori attacking me? That I would draw my sword and break my vow? That I wouldn't?"

"That you would do your duty and protect her with your life. Which you did, with your own promise still intact."

There was silence. Both men stared at each other for a long moment, motionless. Finally, Aoshi stood up and turned to head out the door. "I will consider this matter," he said quietly. "But I am very displeased by what happened, Okina." With that, he slipped out and shut the shoji behind him. He could almost hear the sigh from the remaining occupant in the room as he strode away.

Aoshi stepped outside, heading towards the temple to meditate. His head ached from all the confusion and his stomach was grumbling from the lack of food since he skipped breakfast this morning, but he was no longer angry. At least, not very angry. He could even understand the need for such careful weeding of prospective suitors for the Leader, but he never thought _he_ would have to be tested.

"Mr. Shinomori."

The familiar voice jerked him into a halt. Aoshi turned her head and saw Shiori standing a few feet away from him, concealed between two houses. Her right arm still limply at her side as if she hadn't received any treatment for it yet. But the sword was back at her side; apparently, she must have retrieved it after he and Misao left the knoll.

_Misao_. The tension increased in Aoshi's body. She would no doubt light into him for hiding information and brushing her aside in his anger to get to Okina. His little ninja was going to be angrier than a weasel cheated out of her prize.

"The leader is fine. She is currently ranting to Miss Okon and Miss Omasu about the stupidity of men, you in particular," Shiori said, guessing at his concern. "You should be tended to by a healer while you are out."

Aoshi glanced down at the stains on his shirt and realized people were staring at him from a wide berth. "As should you," he said, referring to her arm.

She smiled slightly and shrugged her good shoulder. "It only hurts when I breathe. I merely came by to ask if you wished to know my assessment of your capabilities as a consort to our Leader before I speak with Okina."

Aoshi raised an eyebrow. "I won the match."

Shiori chuckled before wincing at the shooting pain running down her arm. "That is not the only consideration. Consorts have been negatively judged even after winning."

He considered that for a moment before inclining his head to indicate she should continue.

"You are, of course, quite skilled, with or without weapons. You managed to face a blade without flinching. You are ruthless when dealing with your enemies, yet just in your actions." Shiori shook her head. "You make an excellent leader. However, as a consort, you fail miserably."

Aoshi stiffened but the onmitsu continued without pausing. "A leader needs someone to balance her – or him – especially when making difficult life and death decisions. The consort acts almost like a counterbalance, adjusting easily to every situation the leader is faced with. He must be the support when all others falter. He must have complete faith in the abilities of our leader. He is destined never to be officially recognized but to carry the same burden."

Shiori then smiled, her eyes softening as she finished. "However, there is one last thing to consider. Our leader loves you – very much so. And I saw that you love her in the same manner. That is why I have judged in your favor, Mr. Shinomori."

Aoshi shook his head slightly. "A romantic enforcer of the Oniwaban laws. I am not quite certain you are the correct person for this position."

She merely smiled again, not bothered by his words in the slightest. "You are one of the few men who has thus far kept his vow that was made from the heart, even when faced with a difficult situation. For that alone, I consider you worthy of our Leader." She bowed from the waist. "My assessment of you is complete. Have a good life, Mr. Shinomori. It has been an honor." She stepped back into the shadows and disappeared from sight.

Aoshi stood there for a long moment before he slowly turned around to head back to the Aoiya. He could meditate in his room after he faced Misao. Besides, his wounds were beginning to really hurt and one of the cuts wouldn't stop bleeding.

It would also give him time to consider making another sort of promise since he was so good at upholding them. But this vow would be to his Misao – one he knew he would never have trouble keeping.


End file.
